


one day we will be remembered (promise me this)

by mallory



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Friendship, Gen, LLF Comment Project, undertones of jake/amy and gina/rosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 11:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5288834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mallory/pseuds/mallory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody expected the school’s Most Likely to Succeed and resident badgirl to get along, let alone be good friends. But here they are, their summer before senior year: siting back against the windshield of Rosa’s black 1963 Falcon and wondering if their possibilities really are as infinite as the stars hidden behind city lights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	one day we will be remembered (promise me this)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from ‘Long Live’ by Taylor Swift.
> 
> Edited: 17/8/16.

Amy climbs out of Rosa’s convertible after Rosa (barely) safely parks on the side street in front of Forte Greene Park. With a paper bag full of snacks, Amy hops onto the hood of the car and rests back against the windshield as the sound of the top slowly collapses behind her. The metal under her is too warm for her thighs not protected by her shorts so she plants her sandalled feet to get comfortable.

There’s a week left in their summer before their senior year of high school. The college craze has already begun and Amy has two binders full of useful information on the colleges she’s interested in attending (cut down from the five binders when her guidance counsellor suggested she choose her top three).

Rosa climbs onto the hood beside her and grabs the bag still in Amy’s hands.

Chains rattling and victorious shouts travel over from the group of kids playing on the basketball court beyond the fence. Leaves chatter restlessly from the tree rooted a few feet away as the summer breeze flows down the street. Classic rock pumps from Rosa’s radio.

Above, the sun reluctantly slides behind the buildings of New York for the day, spilling a murky mix of orange and dark purple. “You know what I just realised?”

“What’s that?” Rosa replies shortly as she rummages around the bag, presumably for the sour patch kids she’s addicted to.

“We’ve known each other for two years and we don’t know each other’s favourite colour.”

With her sour patch kids packet in hand, Rosa lifts a brow. “Your favourite colour is red.”

Amy’s mouth falls open. “How do you know that?”

“First, I thought it was pink because you wear that a lot.” Rosa opens the packet and pops one into her mouth. “But then I noticed that you only wear pink when you want to look more girly. Like on a date or going out with your brothers. It’s like you think you need to broadcast that you’re a girl.”

“Then how do you know red is my favourite?”

“All your stationary is red. You love stationary.” She offers her some candy, but Amy shakes her head, contemplating Rosa’s logic as she reaches for the bag, blindly searching for her bottle of mineral water.

She’s certainly more observant than Amy realised. 

Amy pulls out Rosa’s bottle of Coca-Cola instead and hands it to her, eyeing the pink strip of hair that starts four inches from her roots to the ends of her long, curly hair. It’s about sixty-nine degrees out right now, and while Rosa’s not wearing her leather jacket, it’s in the backseat of her car. She carries it around like a safety blanket, and if Amy knows it wouldn’t put a scowl on Rosa’s face, she’d tell her how cute it is. “Well, then your favourite colour would either be black or pink.” Amy smiles.

Rosa scoffs. “Wrong.”

Her face falls and she grips the bag tightly in her hands, the paper crumpling thickly. “How am I wrong? You love your leather jackets and they’re black, and the only splash of colour ever is the pink in your hair.”

“People don’t need to know my business,” Rosa announces cooly. “I don’t wear my favourite colour.”

“Then what is it?” Amy opens up her Twizzlers packet and shakes it out to Rosa, who takes one.

“Green.”

Amy’s curious to know why, but she herself can't say why she finds red most appealing, so she accepts the answer with a nod, snaps off a bite of the strawberry flavoured candy and reverts her attention back to the sky.

Much like the blossoming of their friendship, Amy doesn’t know when the sky went from a confusion of colours to the inky darkness of the night. All she knows is when she looks up, the pretty twinkling stars are finally visible.

The city lights are too bright to see all the stars the night has to offer, but she knows it’s out there, and if she looks hard enough, she can see some of the ones that shine brighter than the city’s. It’s worth making the effort to find them.

Gina’s distinct laughter can be heard somewhere beyond the park’s gate and Amy squints as she tries to seek her out. Well, not Gina per se, but the group of people she may be with.

Beside her, Rosa stiffens almost imperceptibly. Amy doesn’t blame her; Gina’s gone out of her way the past two years to make fun of Rosa. That’s actually how Amy and Rosa became friends.

“Do you remember your first day, when Gina Linetti started verbally attacking you?”

Rosa snorts. “Yeah. Lucky you stepped in before I got to her.”

Not seeing anyone in Gina’s group that catches her eye, Amy settles back against the windshield. “You didn’t see it that way.”

“But then I realised that you kept me from getting kicked out of another school, and apologised.”

 _Apologised?_ Amy laughs sharply and turns to look at her with her brows raised. “You said, and I quote, ‘Hey”—she gruffs in Rosa’s deep and monotonous voice—“Sorry, or thanks. Whatever.’”

Rosa tilts her head and the corner of her mouth ticks up. “And?”

“ _And_ that was the most sincere thing you said to me for the first month.”

“That's not true. When you sat with me in the cafeteria next day and I told you to fuck off, I was _completely_ sincere.”

Amy laughs. She remembers being offended and hurt that the new girl was so callous. It wasn’t until their English teacher paired them up together for a group assignment (because Latinas should always and only be paired together, right?) did Amy eventually learn that Rosa was a tough nut to crack. There was an antagonistic situation where Amy said the wrong thing and/or pushed too far that set her off, but they eventually worked it out and became somewhat friends after the assignment.

Can’t say anything similar happened between Gina and Rosa, though.

“I wonder why she’s so hostile toward you,” Amy muses quietly. “Do you think she’s homophobic?” When Rosa doesn’t answer, she gently prompts, “Rosa?”

“She kissed me.”

Amy sits up. “What!?” Rosa’s sharp eyes pierce her in a warning and Amy forces herself to chill. She leans back and lowers her shoulders, clearing her throat. “When, uh, did this happen?”

“Before summer.”

“ _What_!?” Amy vaults forward so fast she almost slides down the hood and has to brace herself with one hand while the other clutches at her drink and candy in her lap. She’s a second too late and the packet of Twizzlers tips over and one slips out and slides off the hood like a log at the end of a stream.

“Shut it,” Rosa growls. It’s her ‘I’m annoyed; you’re annoying me’ growl, but Amy can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“That was three months ago—I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

It’s true that once upon a time Amy needed a crowbar to pry her way into Rosa’s mind, but she likes to think in the two years they’ve known each other and have slowly become friends that Rosa tells her the big things.

This? This is _huge_.

Rosa narrows her eyes. “So when were you going to tell me you’ve been seeing Jake Peralta since the Fourth of July?”

Amy’s cheeks heat up and her eyes drift over to where she last saw Gina’s friends. “H-how—Who—?”

“I saw you sucking face during the fireworks show.”

Swallowing, Amy settles back against the car with a pout. “Fine. We’re even.”

She never guessed Gina to be someone who likes girls. Amy’s always seen her flirting with and touching the guys on their school’s sports teams. She could be bisexual like Rosa is. Or, it could a front, to keep people from knowing the truth. Maybe Gina’s afraid that people would be mean the same way she’s been mean to Amy and everyone else for the things that makes them different. Gina makes people afraid to be who they are because _she_ is.

Is that changed now? Because she kissed Rosa?

_Would things be different this year?_

Do either have feelings for each other? Are they going to date—and if they are would it be a secret? What about after high school? Would they still be dating then or break it off to explore other opportunities that college would provide?

The questions bring her back to Jake and yesterday when they were hanging (making) out in his mom’s car in a Wendy’s parking lot. He asked her whether she wanted to keep them a secret or start telling people they’re boyfriend and girlfriend. Amy honestly hadn’t thought of Jake as her boyfriend until that moment.

Their first choice for college is NYU so she knows they’ll be going there together if things pan out well for the both of them academically. If things work out romantically, she’ll be one of those girls she used to judge for bringing her high school romance with her to college. She likes the stability of a relationship; she doesn’t feel tied down to Jake or like she’s missing out on something. She’s not worried about them.

No, what she’s worried about is her friendship with Rosa and how life during and after college would affect them. Would they Skype and text before slowly being swallowed up by their own lives? Would they be the kind of people who only see each other on special occasions—or worse, at their ten year reunion where they promise to make more of an effort to keep in touch but don’t?

Amy’s had socks longer than she’s been friends with Rosa, and Rosa is the type of person who does okay and is okay with being alone.

“Promise me something,” Amy utters, maybe a little too fiercely because Rosa jerks beside her.

“What?”

“Promise that we’ll keep in touch, no matter where we end up or what we do. That every Sunday evening for one hour we’ll talk and catch each other up on our week.”

The sigh Rosa lets out sounds long and suffering. “ _Every_ week?”

“Once every fortnight, then.”

A car drives by with a smooth _whoosh_. Fallen leaves crackle as they scramble along the gravel.

Amy frowns down at her bottle. “You’re my best friend, Rosa. I want you in my life.”

“What makes you think we wouldn’t be in each other’s lives?”

“I don’t know.” She chances a look to Rosa. “Where do you think you’ll be five years from now?”

“Don’t know.” Rosa licks her lips and glares at the back of the car parked in front of them. “Probably working for my dad.”

“Surely you have greater aspirations than your dad’s auto shop.” Her eyes widen. “Not that I’m saying anything bad about—I know your dad works hard and runs a successful business. I’m just… Doesn’t he want you to find something better?”

Rosa doesn’t move, but Amy knows how hard it is for her, talking about the future—especially since she’s always wanted to be a professional ballet dancer until she didn’t (or couldn’t)—so Amy takes a deep breath and bites back a tirade of how Rosa _deserves_ more than she thinks she does.

“Ever since I fractured my wrist last year, I thought about”—Rosa visibly swallows—“something to do with orthopaedic… I don’t know. I was interested in the bones stuff. But it’s stupid.”

“No!” Amy props her hand on the windshield and turns to her friend. “It’s not stupid. So you’re thinking of orthopaedics. As a surgeon?”

Rosa tacks on a nod with her shrug.

“That’s amazing.” Despite the ‘I don’t care about you so fuck off’ reputation Rosa might want to uphold, Amy knows she cares more than she lets on and likes helping people. Before summer let out, Gina was harassing a freshman when Rosa stepped in and diverted Gina’s attention to her. So yes: “I can see you doing that.”

Rosa turns her head with a small smile. “Yeah?”

Amy smiles back. “Totally.”

“What about you?” she asks after a beat. “A lawyer like your dad?”

Amy shakes her head. “I don’t know what I want to do, actually. Back in May, I was adamant I was going to become a teacher—not high school, of course, but like a college professor where the students would respect me and enjoy what they’re learning. Then I thought being an entrepreneur like my brother would be challenging and fun, but I didn’t know what goods or services I’d be selling.

“Jake mentioned something about being a government spy. I hoped he was joking, but I know he was serious.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what I want to do yet.”

“You’ll figure it out.” She pops another sour patch into her mouth. “You always do.”

 _Because I’m predictable, sensible Amy, right?_ She clenches her jaw. “Or maybe I’ll just go with the flow and randomly pick a college major.” She shakes her head and tugs on her t-shirt.

_What was I thinking?_

“Nevermind that. That’s a horrible idea. What if I’ll hate what I picked? And I can’t just change majors because that just makes me a quitter. I’ll be miserable for my four years at college either way. I can’t just let my future fall into the hands of a brief bout of spontaneity, that’s just—”

“Amy,” Rosa interrupts.

“What? Sorry.” Amy sighs deeply and takes a sip from her warmish mineral water.

“You’re my best friend too.”

Curtailing her smile by biting her lip, Amy sneaks a glance at her _best_ friend to see her looking up and pursing her lips. Amy thinks it’s to keep from smiling, and she doesn’t want to tease her and ruin the moment so she transfers her gaze to the sky too.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
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